


The Best Kind Of Mess

by orphan_account



Category: Smosh, Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: M/M, Marijuana, Omorashi, Recreational Drug Use, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenage!Smosh. Ian and Anthony get high in the woods one night, and discover a mutual fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Kind Of Mess

Ian followed Anthony through the woods, giggling slightly to himself. It was two o’clock in the morning, but the moonlight was shining brightly through the trees above them, and even in his still-somewhat-high state he was sure of his footing on the rough ground.  
  
It was one of those nights where he’d slept over at Anthony’s and they’d snuck out of his room in the middle of the night to go share a couple of joints, except that this time it had led to something different than usual. Something more... intimate.  
  
Ian was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly crashed into Anthony before he noticed that he’s stopped. Anthony turned around to face him, and Ian wondered if they were going to talk about what had happened earlier.  
  
“Anthony, I –” Ian started, but Anthony cut him off.  
  
"Hold on, dude, I gotta piss." He grinned apologetically and took a few steps backwards, steadying himself with one hand against the tree beside him and unzipping his fly with the other. He fumbled with his boxers for a second before Ian gave in and stepped forward to help. His fingers lingered on Anthony’s dick for a second as he helped him pull it out, and Anthony hummed appreciatively. The memories of the tentative handjobs from earlier that night were still fresh in their minds.  
  
“Gotta piss,” Anthony reminded Ian softly, and Ian nodded, stepping back. Another urge was creeping to the front of his mind, something even weirder than touching his best friend’s dick.  
  
Anthony aimed his cock downward and let out a small moan of relief as urine poured from the tip, soaking the carpet of leaves beneath his feet. Ian was mesmerised, and without realizing it, he stepped forward again.  
  
“What are you doing?” Anthony asked, but Ian couldn’t answer. The strange idea had taken hold of his mind, and he couldn’t resist. He drifted closer to Anthony’s body, his eyes never leaving the stream of liquid falling to the ground.  
  
"Dude, watch out, you're gonna-"  
  
Ian took one more step forward, and Anthony's stream touched his jeans, dampening them just below his left knee.  
  
"Dude," Anthony said again, starting to move his dick in an attempt to redirect his stream, but Ian grabbed his wrist, keeping it in place.  
  
"Don't," Ian whispered, his dick jumping as the fluids soaked through his pant leg. "I like it."  
  
Anthony stared at him for half a second. Then the stare became a smirk.  
  
"You like it?" he murmured. "How about this, then?" He aimed his cock higher, redirecting his stream until he was pissing all over Ian's thighs.  
  
"Yes," Ian breathed happily. "Oh God, Ant, yes."  
  
Anthony bit his lip and raised himself up onto his tiptoes, the extra bit of height sending his stream just a little bit higher. Ian let out a moan as Anthony's urine soaked the crotch of his pants, hot liquid feeling so good against his rapidly hardening cock.  
  
All too soon, Anthony’s stream faltered and faded away to nothing. Ian stood still, panting slightly, as Anthony tucked his dick back into his pants. Finally, he looked back up at Ian.  
  
Ian blushed. “I –”  
  
He was cut off as Anthony stepped forward and kissed him. Ian let out a surprised gasp before giving in, parting his lips to let Anthony’s insistent tongue enter his mouth. It felt amazing, and Ian wondered vaguely why they hadn’t done this before.  
  
Only a few seconds passed before Anthony pulled away. Their faces were still only inches apart.  
  
“How did it feel?” Anthony whispered, his voice unsteady.  
  
“How did what –”  
  
“When I pissed on you,” Anthony urged.  
  
Ian bit his lip. “It felt so good, Ant.”  
  
Anthony pulled Ian’s body up against his own. He pushed his knee between Ian’s legs, pressing his thigh right against Ian’s crotch. Even in the faint moonlight, Ian could see the desire in his eyes.  
  
“Show me,” he murmured.  
  
Ian swallowed. “You want me to –?”  
  
Anthony nodded. “Please.”  
  
Ian couldn’t help but marvel at how strange this night was. Anthony had jerked him off, had pissed on him, had fucking  _kissed_  him, and now he was asking Ian to piss on him too and the idea was turning him on so much that it was taking all of his concentration to try to actually do it.  
  
“Come on, Ian,” Anthony breathed against his earlobe, slipping his hand underneath the back of Ian’s shirt and stroking his knuckles along Ian’s spine. That was all it took for Ian to relax.  
  
He uttered a soft moan as he felt his bladder release. A blissful warmth flowed into his boxers as he pressed his crotch tight against Anthony’s thigh, and for a second that was all he could feel; and then it was soaking through his jeans, and Anthony must have felt it too because he threw back his head and moaned, grabbing Ian’s ass with both hands and pulling him closer.  
  
Ian rocked his hips, gasping as more urine gushed out of him. He could hardly believe how deliciously wrong this was; he was  _pissing himself_ , pissing all down Anthony’s leg and onto the ground beneath them, and it was turning him on more than he could have ever imagined.  
  
“So fucking hot,” Anthony murmured, his breath hitching on the last word. Ian buried his face in Anthony’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin as the last of his stream trickled out.  
  
“Wow,” he whispered. For a few seconds they stood without moving, arms locked around each other’s waists. Finally, Ian pulled away, looking down at their jeans.  
  
Ian’s thighs were still damp from where Anthony had pissed on them earlier, while his crotch was freshly soaked from what had just happened. One of Anthony’s legs – the one that had been pressed against Ian’s crotch – was drenched completely down the front, while his other leg was almost entirely dry.  
  
“Shit,” Ian said, grinning. “We made a mess.”  
  
“Fuck yeah we did,” Anthony murmured, grabbing Ian’s belt loops and pulling him in for a kiss. “The best kind of mess.”


End file.
